Secret Love

Starsky arrives at Hutch’s with a revelation.

The sound that woke him slowly penetrated into a cacophony of deliberate, heavy, repeated knocks on his door mixed with a joyous, almost musical calling of his name.

A groan escaped. Starsky. What the hell would he want at two o’clock in the morning sounding like he’d just won the lottery and couldn’t wait to share?

Only the fact that he didn’t want his neighbours calling the cops drove him from his bed with any speed and energy at all. From the sounds of it, Starsky was in an “I’m not going away ’til you let me in” mood, and although he welcomed the thought of a happy Starsky, especially after the past few months, why the hell did he have to pick 2:00 a.m. on a Friday, no Saturday, morning.

He threw open the door.

“Starsky, shut up! It’s 2:00 blooding a.m. for…”

Further comment was halted as a wide-eyed, grinning, bouncing Starsky popped through the door; grabbed him in a bone-crushing, inescapable bear hug that literally lifted him off his feet. He barely managed to slam the door shut before a babbling, incoherent Starsky set him back on his feet and gaily twirled him around in an ecstatic dance.

Firmly planting his feet and exerting all his strength brought them to a stand still. Hutch waited as his breathless partner slowly regained control.

“What’s going on Starsky? What happened? Why are you here?”

A calmer Starsky released Hutch, but the glow and happiness bubbling from him kept those feet moving uncontrollably. He threw up his hands in excitement.

“I’m in love, Hutch! Unbelievably, wholly and ecstatically in love! Ain’t that great! I can’t believe it. I’ve been so stupid. I don’t know what to do I’m so happy. Want to go out dancing, or maybe a walk on the beach? Gotta celebrate and tell everyone. Would you believe it? After all these years, I’m finally and truly in love. Come on, Hutch, come celebrate. Get dressed. Come on, lets go buddy. Hurry up.”

All through Starsky’s amazing declaration he danced around the apartment unable to contain his happiness.

Hutch finally caught up with him.

“Whoa partner. Calm down. Easy now. Tell me all about it first, O.K.?”

Hutch’s joy at seeing his partner dancing on the ceiling slowly left him as Starsky’s words hit his brain. In love. Starsky was in love. With whom? When? He felt deflated and betrayed. He had been so hopeful. Ah well, better slip into best friend mode.

He led Starsky into the kitchen and worked around him as he made coffee and brought out a box of Girl Guide cookies he had bought with Starsky in mind.

Starsky had munched his way through several before Hutch set the coffee to brewing and turned to him, admiring for a moment the picture Starsky made propped against the kitchen door with his usual unconscious sensuality, smiling in a soft, secret way that warmed Hutch’s heart.

“O.K. Starsk. Who, what, when, where and why?” said Hutch, his voice surprisingly curious and honestly caring.

Starsky seemed to be lost in reverie for a moment, his smile now one of delight and discovery. When he spoke his voice betrayed the surprise and wonder his new knowledge had brought him.

“I was just driving around after my date tonight, you know. Going nowhere, just cruisin’.”

At Hutch’s nod he went on, moving closer to Hutch instinctively. He waved a hand in confusion.

“I didn’t know what was missing, and lately I’ve been more confused by it. Guess you figured that out, huh?”

He waited for Hutch’s nod before going on, moving almost gently towards Hutch again, his eyes sparkling.

“When I was a kid, Hutch, my mother loved a song. Sang it all the time.”

Momentarily Starsky was lost in memories.

“Tonight I heard that song, and it was like being struck by lightning. I hit the brakes so hard I almost spun out and into the canyon. I couldn’t believe it Hutch. How blind I’ve been I mean. I sat there for an hour remembering all the times we’ve had, all the signals I missed. Why is that, Hutch? How come we can’t see what’s right in front of us? Huh.”

Starsky seemed to be waiting for Hutch to explain the mysteries of life, that quizzical, endearing, innocent look on his face.

But no way was Hutch’s brain even considering anything else but the basic question here. ‘Did I just hear him say what I thought he said’?

He found his voice and just knew his expression was one of hopeful disbelief.

“Starsk?”

“You want to know who has stolen my heart, mind, body and soul Hutch? Who for too many years has been my unacknowledged protector, my strength, my light in the dark?”

The half-teasing remarks where spoken through an undisguised, brilliant smile that shared his secret with Hutch. Suddenly Hutch was seized in a hug that sent his system a message impossible to misinterpret.

Starsky’s head burrowed into his neck, and his next words were muffled but intense.

“I love you, Hutch, love you so much I can’t begin to tell you. It’s so beautiful, so wonderful that I’m almost afraid of it.”

Starsky drew back, his eyes raking over Hutch’s face, looking for something, anything to show that Hutch understood, accepted. What he saw brought laughter and tears.

He threw himself back into the embrace that was slowly reciprocated as Hutch absorbed the knowledge that he had what he had always wanted.

Now it was Hutch’s turn. He greedily wrapped Starsky in his arms, conveying every ounce of adoration, caring and love. His good fortune, expectations and sheer hunger filtered through his system and surrounded them with promise.

He withdrew and cradled warm, caressing fingers around that confidant face, eyes connecting with Starsky’s, searching and sharing.

“I do love you, with all my heart. And I’m not afraid love. Not of you, us, or them.”

After long moments, he brought his lips down to melt against his mates.

The kiss was exquisite. An acknowledgement of everything they were, and Hutch was rather pleased that it did not descend into pure lust.

This was a love that filled their souls, and although the need was there, it was almost inconsequential to the expression of the passion and fulfillment they found in each other.

He knew the lust would explode into a glorious meeting of sexual gratification, but that was for later. For now, they both tenderly explored the quiet necessity of being in love.

Hutch did not know how much time had passed before a question percolated to the top of his brain. They were comfortably stretched out on the sofa, Starsky lying nestled in his arms.

“Starsk?”

“Hmmm.”

“What was the song?”

“The song?”

“Yeah, the song you heard that made you realize…you know.”

“Oh. It was “Secret Love” by Doris Day.”

Hutch silently vowed to get a copy, real soon.